


Mending Wounds

by SilverShortyyy



Series: The Soothing Scars Series [2]
Category: Ocean’s (Movies), Ocean’s 8 (2018), Ocean’s Eight (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 17:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShortyyy/pseuds/SilverShortyyy
Summary: Five years. Eight months. Twelve days.Lou’s come to terms with some truths about herself that five years, eight months, and twelve days ago, she had just started to try to digest. She’s faced the worst of it now, and she’ll face whatever comes next with a smile.A little bird comes to her one day and helps her know she’s not afraid anymore. She tells the bird she’ll do it all again if she has to; through sky and sea, through bars and concrete, through heaven and through hell.





	Mending Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> soothing scars—the act of being soothed by scars; the act of finding comfort, healing in the presence of a scar

_Debbie looks so innocent with her hair tied up, with Lou’s jacket around her shoulders, with her eyes blindfolded with Lou’s bandana while a smile plays on her lips._

_“What exactly are you planning that requires me to be blindfolded?”_

_Lou bites down a smile. Oh, Debbie. Her Debbie._

_“Just wait for it.”_

_“Why can’t I know now?”_

_“Oh, stop being impatient.” Lou gives Debbie a playful smack on the arm, biting harder on her growing smile but not able to resist the sight in front of her. Lou drinks it in, hungry, arms crossed in front of her chest, one foot crossed over the other._

_“Are we going to have BDSM sex or something? Are you into that sort of thing?”_

_Lou laughs, and Debbie laughs, because that’s exactly the kind of joke Debbie would make. Of course. Lou shakes her head._

_Beautiful. Debbie is beautiful._

_“No, we are not going to have sex, sadly.” Lou says, coming behind Debbie with a smirk. Lou keeps her steps quiet despite knowing Debbie can feel her approaching. She lets her body linger just inches away from Debbie’s back; almost touching but not quite. Lou lets her lips brush Debbie’s ear, lets her breath tease Debbie’s skin. “And yes, I’m into that sort of thing.”_

_When Lou looks at Debbie’s face, there’s a smirk on those lips and a slight flush to Debbie’s cheeks._

_“So what did you get me blindfolded for if not that?”_

_Lou chuckles, completely aware how much Debbie can feel it, and completely aware of how Debbie’s heartbeat leaks through her vest and past Lou’s own skin._

_“Happy birthday, honey.”_

_Lou unties the blindfold and lets it fall._

_Debbie gasps, and Lou smirks._

_It’s a dress. Black, partly sheer, with swirls like glittering black smoke for design._

That day, Debbie had kissed her. Lou remembers. And Lou remembers labeling that as her first adult kiss, and it had been such a teenage thing to do but she did it. And hadn’t forgotten since.

Her fingers float up to brush her lips.

Debbie always pushed harder on her upper lip.

_‘They’re my memory of you, of what we had; you were the pinnacle of my being, the climax of my existence, and I’ll never forget you.’_

A part of Lou wants to forget it, wants to let it stay forever untouched at the back of her mind. But most of her can’t bear to do that. After the initial shock of losing Debbie, of having to accept that Lou hadn’t been able to protect her, not after all those silent promises to herself through late nights in her own apartment or Debbie’s, Lou had come to terms with it.

She loves Debbie. And it isn’t the kind of love she could get rid of, not in a million years.

But life goes on and love can take a backseat. The past is in the past; time is gone. The world might send someone else or not, but either way Lou can say she’s satisfied with her life now. Content. Owning a nightclub and all that.

Sometimes, she thinks she’s finally forgotten about Deborah Ocean. Other times, she’s reminded she hasn’t.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Debbie never did learn how not to pounce on unsuspecting victims.

Lou shakes it off though. Shakes the then-and-now dreams away and focuses on today. Work. But oh how lovely work is, and so she puts on a smile and walks out her door.

She lets her last thought of Debbie be, _would Debbie like my motorcycle?_

* * *

> _JLBRD  
>  Where is the fking cemetery? 12pm?_

Lou’s heart jumps. She doesn’t know what the rise in her throat is. But she buries it, buries it for now, dulls her eyes so that the memories won’t overflow just yet.

She stares at it, and she thinks she feels surprise.

She didn’t expect Debbie to be out already. But Debbie is Debbie and she finds a way.

But that isn’t it. It’s not exactly surprising that a con woman can get out of jail, no matter how long it takes.

Lou shoves the thoughts down while the nightclub runs its course, not daring to linger on thoughts long assumed to be untouchable in a corner of her mind.

* * *

When Lou pulls the door shut, she doesn’t quite start the car yet.

She gasps, and a shaky breath leaves her lips. She’ll see Debbie again, and the past is passed them; Lou storming away is nothing but a distant memory of five years ago. If there’s anything constant in Debbie’s life, anyone she can trust through heaven and through hell, it’s Lou. And nothing can change that.

Not mistakes, not anger.

When Lou turns the key and revs the engine up, she thinks of something else.

She thinks of the adrenaline, of the sudden rush in her veins at the mere thought of another con. Of the sudden jolt sent through her blood the moment Debbie’s text popped out of Lou’s lockscreen. Lou thinks maybe she hadn’t done a con since leaving Debbie because it would be like a betrayal, because being Debbie’s partner means never tricking anyone unless it’s with Debbie.

But too many nights in a more or less empty bed has taught Lou she doesn’t do it because it would only remind her of that mischievous, adorable smile, and deep, gleaming brown eyes.

When Lou drives onto the main road, she thinks of the jump. Of the skip her heart made, of the— what exactly? She didn’t know. But it had been like forgetting that a treasure chest in the corner of her bedroom was unlocked, realizing it only at the knock of a toe and the puff of dust out from between the lips of the lid. Did she want to know what was in the chest? Did she want to hold it again? She did, she really did—she does very desperately. But for so long did she believe it was nothing but an ornament at the corner of her room.

How did she even end up believing that?

Lou remembers the earlier years. She remembers the void in her chest on countless mornings; she remembers wanting to forget before realizing she couldn’t.

Oh the damning agony of falling in love.

She’s grown from it now, at least. She’s no longer that teenager pining after a stranger after a first meeting on a rooftop.

Lou turns into the cemetery and parks just in sight of the entrance of the mausoleum. Yes, she’s heard that Danny Ocean is apparently dead, though of course that isn’t for sure, because one never really knows with rumors and con men.

She knows if Debbie had gotten out of jail earlier, she wouldn’t come here at Debbie’s beck and call.

But Lou misses her. And Lou Miller is Debbie’s woman through and through.

It isn’t only immaturity in choosing to ignore the presence of an opportunity. It’s stupidity, recklessness, and fear—fear of getting hurt again, of having to go through the trauma all over again.

Lou thinks it’s good that Debbie’s gotten out now.

Lou’s not afraid of getting hurt all over again if it’s for Deborah Ocean.

In fact, she’d do it all again.

Lou smiles at the sight of a head of brown hair exiting the mausoleum.

A hundred meters. Fifty meters. Ten. Five.

Three.

Two.

The lock on the door clicks.

The door opens.

Lou’s not afraid anymore.

Lou barely has a leash on herself the moment Debbie hauls herself into the car.

Before Debbie can manage to pull the door closed, Lou all but pounces, her face almost slamming into the side of Debbie’s hair.

Lou breathes her in, eyes closed and soul bared, and _God did she miss this_. Her arms squeeze Debbie’s frame, and Debbie feels so right, so perfect in her arms, the right puzzle piece to complete the world.

_I missed you, Jailbird._

When Lou lets herself fall back onto her leather seat, the world falls back into color, and Lou realizes how drained the world had become, if only imperceptibly. She lets herself smile, just a bit, because Debbie Ocean is back in her life and she wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
